


What I Want

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M, Slightly rough but consensual sex.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-01
Updated: 2006-03-01
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8078815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Malcolm thought he wanted Trip, but now he's not so sure. (07/28/2005)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers: 4.03 "Home", 4.10 "Daedalus."

Just a short piece I wrote after seeing 4.10 "Daedalus." It's a bit of an experiment in voice and tense. Short but not sweet.

Warning: Slightly rough but consensual sex.

Beta reader(s): Thank you to MeanOldCow (who is mean but thorough)  


* * *

I had thought that this was what I wanted. Now, lying face down in his bed, I'm not so certain. His hands tighten on my hips with bruising force as he drives into me hard and fast. My breath catches a little in my throat. He's just this side of rough. It isn't exactly painful, but it isn't terribly pleasant either. And it certainly isn't what I had expected, this quick aggressive possession. There had been a time when I was sure that our friendship was becoming something more, but then the Xindi attacked Earth and everything had changed. His grief and anger pushed everything else out of his life, including me.

Once the Xindi threat was gone, our friendship began to slowly redevelop. Still, I was surprised when he had shown up at my door to ask me to dinner; even more surprised to be invited back to his quarters for a drink afterward; and absolutely stunned when his mouth had closed over mine in an ardent kiss as soon as the door had shut behind us. Things had moved quickly from thereâ€”too quickly, though I had voiced no protest.

He starts to move inside of me with short urgent thrusts. His thick cock rakes over my prostate again and again. The sensation is so intense that it borders on pain and I find myself clutching reflexively at the bed sheets.

"Trip." I say breathlessly. "Ease up a little." He gives a small grunt, but I don't think he really heard me because his frantic pace doesn't alter at all. "Trip..." He stiffens and groans, coming deep inside of me. He collapses onto me, his breath hot against my neck. We are both trembling although probably for different reasons. We stay that way for a long time.

Eventually, I become uncomfortable and I squirm a little to remind him that I'm the one who's bearing his weight. There isn't much room to maneuver on the small bunk, but he manages to roll us both over onto our sides so that we lie spooned together on the narrow space. The movement causes his softening penis to slip out of me. Neither one of us says anything.

Several long minutes pass before Trip stirs behind me. I feel his hand sliding along my hip and my neglected erection springs back to life at his touch. I gasp as his hand closes over my hard length and begins to stroke. The friction feels wonderful, but his ministrations have a perfunctory, almost mechanical feel to them. I turn my head to look at him. He looks bored and disengaged, as if this is the distasteful price for his use of my body. My desire dies as anger and humiliation rip through me.

If it were anyone but him, I probably wouldn't care. It wouldn't be the first time I'd had sex without the benefits and burdens of emotional entanglement. But in this case I'm already entangled, perhaps more so than I should be. At the very least I consider Trip a friend and the thought that he's just using me hurts more than I could have imagined.

"Stop." I say. Again he doesn't seem to hear me, so I reach out and grab his wrist, halting the movement of his hand. "Stop." I say more forcefully, letting some of my anger bleed into my voice.

"What?" He asks, obviously confused as I pull his hand away from me. I vacate his bed and start to gather my clothing. "Malcolm?"

"I should go." I say flatly.

"But...but what about..." he waves a hand at my half-erect penis.

"It doesn't matter." I say. And it doesn't, at least not enough for me to stay. He says nothing more, only watches in silence as I pull on my clothes and leave. I wonder if he is relieved to see me go.

It's late and I'm glad that no one else is in the corridor. I'm sure I look nothing like a proper officer in my disheveled state. There's a noticeable tremor in my hand as I key in my door code.

Once I'm in the safety of my quarters, I shed my hastily donned clothing and make my way into the bathroom. I turn on the shower, adjusting the water to run as hot as I can physically bear before stepping under the spray.

I'd been a fool to think that he would want me for more than just a quick fuck. This is what I get for thinking with my cock instead of my head. No, that's not true. To be perfectly honest, I had been thinking with my heart. I should know better by now. Every time I listen to my heart, things end badly. I shiver under the cascade of hot water, knowing with painful certainty that this time is no different.

* * *

The door chime rings, pulling me from an uneasy slumber. What now? I stumble over to the door. When I open it, I find Trip standing there dressed in ragged sweats and a t- shirt. I'm more than a little surprised to see him. I wonder what the hell he wants.

"Commander." I say in cold acknowledgement of his presence. He darts a nervous glance down the corridor before looking at me again.

"Can I come in?" He asks. I think about saying no and closing the door in his face, but something tells me that he won't give up easily if I do so. Wordlessly, I stand aside and let him enter. His gaze never leaves me and I feel strangely exposed in just my boxers. I suddenly wish that I had put on more clothes before opening the door. Doing so now will only appear defensive and I don't want to give him any indication of how rattled I really am. He lets the door close behind him before saying anything.

"I wanted to apologize." He says softly.

"Fine. Apology accepted. Now please go." But he doesn't.

"You deserve a lot better than what I gave you."

"I know. Why do you think I left?" I don't try to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"I'm real sorry, Malcolm. I'd like to...can I try an' make it up to you?" I can't help the foolish surge of hope that runs through my heart. I squash it down ruthlessly and turn away from him, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.

"I don't think that's a good idea." His hand touches my shoulder and I flinch as if burned.

"At least let me explain. Please." It's the soft plea at the end that makes me sigh and capitulate.

"Fine. You explain; I'll make us some tea." I don't want the tea, but I want something to do with my hands. He takes it for an invitation to get more comfortable and sits down at my desk while I fill the kettle at the bathroom sink.

"I'm listening." I say, setting the kettle back down on the counter and flipping the switch to start heating the water. I don't look at him, instead busying myself with collecting mugs and tea bags. For a long time there is only the sound of the water rumbling in the kettle.

"I slept with T'Pol." He blurts the words out in a rush. I keep my gaze riveted on the kettle waiting for him to clarify this non sequitur but he says nothing more.

"That's your explanation?" I ask, finally turning to face him. "What the hell does T'Pol have to do with any of this?" He fidgets under my angry glare.

"I...well, it started in the Expanse. Everything was so messed up and it just happened." The kettle beeps and I automatically begin to prepare the tea. "Afterward she backed off real quick, but there was still this...well, some kind of connection between us. Even after she married that Koss fellow, there was still something there." His narrative is disjointed and more than a little confusing. I find myself staring absently at the tea bag in my hand. I give myself a mental shake before pulling my attention back to Trip's words. "...but ever since we left Vulcan she's been kinda distant. She's always busy reading that weird Vulcan religious text that they found. And then the other day she came by engineering and said that she didn't really have time for..." I interrupt with a hard unsympathetic laugh.

"She dumped you." Here, finally, is the explanation, and it's worse than I thought it would be. I had been nothing more than a temporary salve to assuage his damaged ego.

"Yeah." He mumbles. "She dumped me."

"So you thought you'd fuck me to make yourself feel better." I say harshly. I turn around and thrust a mug at him. I feel a petty surge of satisfaction when the hot liquid sloshes over his hand. He hastily sets the cup down on the desk and stands up.

"No! It wasn't like that, Malcolm. I just...I just wanted to be with someone I knew wanted me. I didn't mean for it to go so far. I just thought that we'd have dinner and a drink, but you looked so damn good and you were hot and willing. More than she ever was." Oh, I had been willing, all right. Such an easy fuck. He hadn't even needed to buy me a drink. I wonder how much worse this can get.

Apparently he sees something of my thoughts in my expression. "Damn it, Malcolm!" He says with a scowl. "Don't you go twistin' my words. I didn't mean it like that. I just..." His scowl transforms into a plaintive look. "I just really wanted to be with you." "You were in me, Trip, but you sure as hell weren't with me. You weren't thinking of me at all."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. After you left I realized what a bad mistake I'd made. It shouldn't have been that way. I didn't mean to hurt you. I love you. Have for a while, you know, long before I had...whatever it was I had with T'Pol. I want you Malcolm."

"And just what, exactly, do you want me for?" I ask scathingly. "Sex?"

"Well, yes, partly, but I was hopin' that we could have a relationship."

"A relationship." I echo skeptically.

"A real relationship." He clarifies. "It's not...I don't just want sex."

"Huh." I say, not convinced by his seemingly sincere words.

"You were willing enough to try before." I give him a hard look and he has the grace to blush. I sigh, feeling extraordinarily weary all of a sudden. I sit down heavily on my bunk. Even now, I still want him, but I'm no longer sure that we have anything on which to base a relationship.

"Trip," I ask "are we even friends anymore?"

"Of course we are!" He sounds insulted. "How can you even ask that?"

"I don't know." I sigh and rub my hands over my eyes. "Things have changed so much in the past year. I don't know where we stand anymore. You've hardly spoken to me outside of duty since we came back from the Expanse, and then tonight..." I close my eyes, not sure what else to say. His hands slide over mine and I look up to find him kneeling in front of me.

"I know, Malcolm. I know I made a mistake. And maybe I've ruined everything for good, but did you...did you enjoy spending time with me? I mean before I messed everything up." I want to say no, but I had enjoyed myself. Dinner had been quite lovely. At the beginning, things had been a little stilted, but we had quickly fallen into our comfortable old patterns of conversation. We hadn't spoken with one another like that for a long time.

"Malcolm?" He asks nervously, still waiting for my answer. I should say no. I should ask him to leave. I should stop this right now.

"The kissing was very nice." I say softly. It isn't at all what I meant to say. Relief floods into his eyes and a small smile pulls at his lips. His fingers stroke gently over my hands, drawing invisible patterns on my skin. I swallow hard. Fool that I am, I throw caution to the wind and follow my heart for the second time tonight. "Perhaps we could try that part again." I say. He peers up at me.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure." His tentative smile blossoms into a full- blown grin. He leans in to capture my lips with his own. It's nothing like the kisses we shared earlier. Those had tasted like fire, all thoughtless passion and need. This kiss is like spring rain, full of the promise of things to come. I exhale softly when it ends.

"So what do you say, Malcolm? Are you willing to give me another chance?"

I hesitate before asking, "What about T'Pol? What happens if she changes her mind?"

"She won't." He sounds certain, but I'm not.

"If she does?" I press. I need to hear it. Trip reaches out and cups my face in his hands, looking me in the eyes.

"If she does, then too bad for her. I don't want her. I want you." I can tell that he believes what he's saying, even if I don't. For the moment it's enough.

"Well, then," I say recklessly, leaning forward for another kiss. "I believe you said something about making it up to me?"

Before long, things become more heated and we surge up into each other's arms. Trip's hands push down under the elastic of my boxers, one exploring finger sliding along the cleft of my buttocks. It evokes memories of what we did earlier this evening. I'm surprised and a little frightened by how vulnerable it makes me feel.

"Don't." I say a bit sharper than I mean to. He freezes and looks down at me in concern. As his eyes search mine, his expression becomes slightly panicky and he withdraws his hands as if burned.

"Oh, God, Malcolm. I didn't hurt you, did I? Before, I mean when I..."

"No. You didn't hurt me." I say. "I just don't want... We went too fast last time."

"I know." His voice is soft and full of regret. After that, he is carefully mindful of my pleasure, making sure that each touch is welcome before proceeding. Eventually, we end up naked on my bunk. Trip is intense and focused and there is nothing perfunctory in how he takes my penis into his mouth.

Afterward he lies quietly between my legs, his arms around my waist, his head pillowed on my stomach. Neither of us says anything. He seems utterly relaxed, like a big cat at rest. I reach out to card my hand through his hair, but I hesitate, not wanting to do anything to disturb the moment. My aborted movement catches his attention.

"Malcolm? You okay?" He sounds worried.

"I'm fine, Trip. Just tired."

"Oh." He starts to disentangle himself from me. "I should go." Even though it's appallingly late, I don't want him to leave. I stop him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Will you stay here tonight? To sleep, I mean."

"You want me to stay?" He sounds surprised.

"If you'd like to, that is." I try to make it sound casual. He smiles, obviously pleased with the invitation.

"I'd like that a lot, Malcolm."

* * *

We're spooned together on my bunk. His body is a warm and comforting presence against my back. He fell asleep long ago, but I'm still awake listening to his soft contented snores. I tell myself that this is what I want, that T'Pol won't change her mind, and that Trip won't leave me when she does. For a while, I even let myself believe it.


End file.
